Devastation
by LovingYouAtFirstSight
Summary: A once colourful world nothing but black and grey's, Poppy's life curled in one broken ball. Poppy's home was destroyed.


**For Fanfiction Scavenger Hunt **- #9 A fic between 700 and 900 words using the prompts sentimental, purple, and hospital wing. **Word Count: 710**

**For Variety of Prompts Challenge** - #7 Wand

**For Ten Times Ten Challenge **– List 1: Colours - #5 Blue

**For Character Diversity Boot Camp** – Poppy Pomfrey - #28 Unforgettable

**A/N:** I liked the idea I had for this fic. I worry it may be a bit repetitive. I hope not though. Anyway Enjoy

….

Silence fell over the castle like a blanket of snow, slow and beautiful, covering every surface of the once beautiful castle in a haze of confusion. The mass of fighters pausing rather than resting, this battle was not over, that much was clear. Poppy stood among the injured to the left of the Great Hall, unable to face the masses of bodies being pulled through to the right. The populist of dead outweighed the injured in leaps and bounds, but Poppy was here to heal. She stared at the wizards around her, mostly children, covered in burns, and bruises already varying degrees of purple and blue.

Poppy had thought she had seen it all. Children turned to cats, petrified and ripped open. This was something she could barely stomach, as she stood in the wake of devastation.

"We need more Burn-Aid," someone said from behind her. Poppy stood unable to focus on the face in front of her, tears burnt against her eyes blurring her vision.

"I will be back," Poppy informed her, she did not want anyone else to wander into home; her sanctuary. She raced down the familiar path to the Hospital Wing, the only place she had ever truly felt at home. But as she round the corner and the sight of destruction inched its way into her mind, a shocking sight lay before her, and Poppy could barely breathe.

The moment was unforgettable; it would forever be burnt fresh against Poppy's mind. A memory of an entire world blown to smithereens and lying ahead of her in broken shards. A once colourful world nothing but black and grey's, Poppy's life curled in one broken ball.

Poppy's home was destroyed.

Nothing could quite explain the feeling Poppy Pomfrey felt as she stood in the destruction of the hospital wing. The ten feet doorframe remained above her, the doors blown off their hinges and sprawled across the floor. They lay twisted before her, like tortured bodies, broken and trampled.

She stepped forward her shoes crushing fragments of broken glass before her, with every step she took her stomach turned. Before her lay half made beds with purple sheets, some with broken legs, others turned over. The roof was caved in; brick and rock littered the floor the further she ventured toward her office. The harsh sound of brick on polished marble, crunching, scraping, with every step Poppy took.

The office walls, which were once a beautiful pearl white, and windows to monitor the sick and injured, were in pieces. Bodies, having being blast through the glass, lay broken and forgotten. Poppy took a deep breath, the destruction nearly too hard to handle before entering the office and finding what she needed.

The cabinet was jammed shut, with trickles of coloured liquid gushing from the base. Poppy had never been particularly strong so she pulled out her wand and a firework display of orange spat from the end blasting the doors from the hinges. The sound echoed out of the castle, like a beacon alerting everyone to her whereabouts. If the Death Eaters were returning, now was the time to move.

Poppy filled up the closest bucket she could find with as many things from the cabinet before walking back out of the room. This time her eyes lay on the door, she did not need to see her home destroyed again, she did not need to watch as more bricks tumbled from the walls or as glass snapped under her feet.

The great green arch that once held the oak doors was her only goal. Lying ahead of her like a finish line, the cracks and scraps of glass and marble only pushing her harder.

She felt a sentimental attachment to the Hospital Wing sweep over her. It would never be the same again, and neither would she. So with one final fleeting look she ran from the room, carrying as much as she could to help save those left to save.

Later she told people she needed the space from working at Hogwarts, and retirement had always been just around the corner. What Poppy never mentioned was how she knew from the moment she stepped over the threshold of the Hospital Wing, there was no turning back.


End file.
